In Europe, I think single women are assumed to be strong, wiry, and in constant search of exercise. Why else do I look back on a decade's worth of rooms at the very top of small hotels? Almost invariably, no matter where or how I reserve, I am shown to a room at the top of the staircase. (All that stair climbing does balance out a certain number of treats, of course.)
After years of flying to Amsterdam with NWA, I've got a new favorite way to go - Seattle to Paris, on Air France. Although the seat-back TV will still end up in your face when the person in front of you pushes all the way back, the general level of service and food is more polished and friendly than on NW. (But I can become a fan of any airline that offers real champagne as an aperitif in coach class!)
Bruges is lovely and historic, as advertised, and probably not quite so full of tourists as it will be in a few months. Everywhere there are signs of economic distress - too many empty storefronts, closed restaurants and "going out of business" signs. In spite of this, crowds still troop through the narrow streets and the Market Square, and the canal boats are full. Spring is in full bloom here. From my 4th floor window, I can see trees in full leaf, and huge lilac bushes blooming in nearby back gardens.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Spring comes and goes...
On April 1 this year it snowed - no fooling. Since then, the pattern is that we have one or two days of sunshine and warm temperatures, followed by cold rainy weather. We retrieve the winter jackets from the end of the closet and carry on.
"What's the weather like in Paris?" someone asked me today. So far I haven't checked, and I probably won't. Weather will be what it will be - I usually pack as if I were going to be at home here in the NW, and that's almost never a bad thing.
For this trip, my new toy is a mini-computer. For years, I've dreamed of a computer you really could put in a purse, and finally one is available at a reasonable price. (I used to drool over the tiny machines on a Japanese website, but prices started around $3400!)
Now I have the hp mini - a most charming small computer I first encountered when an obliging staff member at the Inn at Laguna Beach loaned us one to print boarding passes.
"We keep this around for guests to check email," he said. Much easier than running to the public library (which was closed Sunday night anyway!)
Now I have one of my own. It's loaded with programs, faster than my trusty Mac - and it fits in my purse.
(When I asked a sales associate at the Apple store whether Apple plans to jump on the Netbook trend, he said, with appropriate condescension, "There's an incredibly high level of dissatisfaction with netbooks.")
We shall see!
"What's the weather like in Paris?" someone asked me today. So far I haven't checked, and I probably won't. Weather will be what it will be - I usually pack as if I were going to be at home here in the NW, and that's almost never a bad thing.
For this trip, my new toy is a mini-computer. For years, I've dreamed of a computer you really could put in a purse, and finally one is available at a reasonable price. (I used to drool over the tiny machines on a Japanese website, but prices started around $3400!)
Now I have the hp mini - a most charming small computer I first encountered when an obliging staff member at the Inn at Laguna Beach loaned us one to print boarding passes.
"We keep this around for guests to check email," he said. Much easier than running to the public library (which was closed Sunday night anyway!)
Now I have one of my own. It's loaded with programs, faster than my trusty Mac - and it fits in my purse.
(When I asked a sales associate at the Apple store whether Apple plans to jump on the Netbook trend, he said, with appropriate condescension, "There's an incredibly high level of dissatisfaction with netbooks.")
We shall see!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Time to update
Indeed. This cold wet spring favors reptilian instincts - my mind is curled up under a rock, waiting for the sun to be warm for more than a couple of days.
But it's time to come out, because three days from now I'm leaving for France, on the direct Air France flight, nine hours and a bit from Seattle to Paris. Just to complicate the schedule, I'm going directly from Paris to Bruges for three days, because the apartment isn't available until May 1.
Today I finally wrote down the "to do" list - a good time to put it on paper, because I can already check off so many things. But the list is still long enough.
Right now I should be getting out the suitcase (in which I would shortly find the cat, neatly folded into the "meatloaf" pose and giving me that "have you consulted me about this?" stare) but first I have to take bags of shredded paper down to the recycling bins, hoping they won't take up too much room. Preparing for a trip makes me want to tidy up in all sorts of ways, and this week the shredder has been getting a workout. No reason to hang onto nine years' worth of mutual fund statements.
It's the spring cleaning instinct. Another friend is attending a shredding party on Saturday. Her hostess has arranged for a commercial shredder, and guests are invited to bring their disposables. Lunch is gourmet hot dogs.
But it's time to come out, because three days from now I'm leaving for France, on the direct Air France flight, nine hours and a bit from Seattle to Paris. Just to complicate the schedule, I'm going directly from Paris to Bruges for three days, because the apartment isn't available until May 1.
Today I finally wrote down the "to do" list - a good time to put it on paper, because I can already check off so many things. But the list is still long enough.
Right now I should be getting out the suitcase (in which I would shortly find the cat, neatly folded into the "meatloaf" pose and giving me that "have you consulted me about this?" stare) but first I have to take bags of shredded paper down to the recycling bins, hoping they won't take up too much room. Preparing for a trip makes me want to tidy up in all sorts of ways, and this week the shredder has been getting a workout. No reason to hang onto nine years' worth of mutual fund statements.
It's the spring cleaning instinct. Another friend is attending a shredding party on Saturday. Her hostess has arranged for a commercial shredder, and guests are invited to bring their disposables. Lunch is gourmet hot dogs.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Aimez-vous Brahms?
The short answer is: most of the time. Today I have parts of "The German Requiem" vying for space in my head, and I have always liked the title phrase (though I've never read the Françoise Sagan novel of the same name.)
Yesterday our choir sang the requiem twice, accompanied by a good-size chamber orchestra. Brahms wrote intricate, densely chromatic music for this piece, and it requires attention and hard work to sing properly (or even passably.)
Then comes #4 - "Wie lieblich sind deine Wohnungen" ("How lovely is thy dwelling place") and all the work is worth it.
From time to time our choir sings this lovely anthem on an ordinary Sunday, in English, with piano accompaniment. Very satisfying.
To sing it in German, accompanied by a good orchestra, in a beautiful church where you have a long history, is as spiritual an experience as I need.
Thank you, Herr Brahms.
Yesterday our choir sang the requiem twice, accompanied by a good-size chamber orchestra. Brahms wrote intricate, densely chromatic music for this piece, and it requires attention and hard work to sing properly (or even passably.)
Then comes #4 - "Wie lieblich sind deine Wohnungen" ("How lovely is thy dwelling place") and all the work is worth it.
From time to time our choir sings this lovely anthem on an ordinary Sunday, in English, with piano accompaniment. Very satisfying.
To sing it in German, accompanied by a good orchestra, in a beautiful church where you have a long history, is as spiritual an experience as I need.
Thank you, Herr Brahms.
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